


Wisdom

by shadowolfhunter



Category: Justified
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:53:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowolfhunter/pseuds/shadowolfhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim Gutterson's a decorated Army Ranger Sniper, he'd survived two tours of Afghanistan, Glynko (training to be a Marshal) and nearly fifteen months as colleague to Raylan Givens. Not much scared him, but the thought of having two wisdom teeth extracted had him shaking in his boots. He had put off the evil moment, but now it was upon him and he was out of excuses. With his friends around him to help him through it, Tim figured he could get by.</p><p>What could possibly go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wisdom

Tim looked around the room. As hospital rooms went, it was okay he supposed. He just wished that he didn’t need this. He had tried every possible way to wriggle out of it, but… _dammit._

“Y’can all go, now.” He deliberately didn’t turn around. Perhaps if he kept his back to his so-called friends, they would all take the hint and leave.

“We’ll all jus’ wait until y’tucked up all nice and comfy.”

Raylan’s Harlan drawl had gotten thicker over the last few months. Tim scowled.

“I’m fine.” He snapped.

“That’s seven _fines_ in the last half hour.”

At that Tim swung round. Rachel’s arms were crossed, she had that look on her face again and Tim was pretty sick of everyone else being right.

Rachel, Raylan, Nelson and Eddie, Tim was sure there was a pun there somewhere but they were all staring at him like he was a specimen in a jar. Tim huffed grumpily.

“What?”

It was Raylan who picked up the gown, handed it to him and gave him a little push in the direction of the private bathroom. “Go’an”.

Tim hunched a shoulder, scowled and let himself be pushed into the bathroom. Changed into the provided gown, gathered up his clothes in a bundle, and exited only to find that his friends hadn’t budged an inch.

Rachel stepped forward to take his clothes from him as Raylan steered him towards the bed.

“You can go.” Tim repeated in the hope that they would just give up and go.

“Not until y’all tucked up in bed.” Raylan’s Harlan was out in force today. Drop the Jubilation T Cornpone accent Tim was wanting to scream at him, shades of Boyd Crowder were edging into his mind, and Tim really, really wanted to get up and shoot something.

Probably Nelson. That shit-eating alligator grin was getting on Tim’s nerves.

Raylan pulled the covers back, and Tim climbed in. It seemed stupid to resist, and Tim’s dignity was taking a big enough hit as it was.

Rachel gathered all of Tim’s clothes up, and shoved them into a bag.

“Hey,” Tim grabbed the edge of the covers, ready to hop out, his attention all on Rachel, “HEY.” He snapped. Taking his attention off Raylan had allowed the cowboy to get a cuff around his wrist and the other around the bed frame. “DAMMIT,” he was shouting and his dignity had taken a major hike. “RAYLAN, LET ME GO.”

“No.” Raylan crossed his arms, in the perfect parody of Rachel’s pissed off look, and for a brief second Tim wondered if they had finally given in to the hormonal attraction that the rest of the office had been swimming in for weeks. The cuff brought his hand up short and Tim yanked hard on it.

“Dammit.” He didn’t mean the catch in his voice, and for just a few seconds, Raylan’s expression softened. The cowboy stepped back closer to the bed. “Tim, tomorrow morning they take the damn things out, and tomorrow afternoon, y’comin’ with me and Rachel, and we’ll have ice cream… by next week y’all have forgotten it.”

Tim’s swing very nearly connected.

Eighteen years as a marshal had given Raylan incredible reflexes, and the knowledge exactly how to restrain a person without hurting them.

Right then, Tim wasn’t appreciating either skill. But he was stuck so he accepted his friends’ goodbyes and tried to settle down.

Rachel was the last to go, having handed off the bag of Tim’s clothes to Raylan she paused. “He’s right you know.”

Tim nodded, grudgingly.

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

She frowned then a little, “want us to stay?”

“No.” he shook his head. He needed to do this. Not let this irrational fear beat him. It was just a hospital, a very small operation, two wisdom teeth. By the time this time came around again he would be home with Raylan and Rachel and everything would be okay.

A squadron of butterflies took flight in his stomach.

******JUSTIFIED******

“Think we should have stayed?” Raylan said quietly. Rachel shot a surprised look at him.

“No. Why?”

Raylan looked utterly confused. “I dunno. Perhaps because he’s scared out of his mind.”

Rachel suppressed a shiver. True, Tim was uncharacteristically panicked. She thought about it for a moment. “No, because the more we give him the idea that there is something to be freaked out by, the worse he’s gonna freak.”

Raylan considered it. “Yeah.” He said doubtfully. 

Rachel shrugged. Tim needed those teeth out, and it had taken them weeks to figure out that he was just too freaked to get it done by himself. “He’ll be fine.”

Raylan had his doubts, but since they were both picking him up from the hospital and staying with him for the weekend, he figured it would work out okay.

******JUSTIFIED******

Tim slid down into the bed, ignoring the cuffs that kept him attached to the rail. He was hungry, but the instructions were no food or drink. Sleep seemed like a better option.

He made himself comfortable as the lights were dimmed. Switching his brain off was an entirely different matter. He closed his eyes. Images flickered in his mind and he opened them again before he started hearing the voices again.

Footsteps. He turned his head. “Hi honey,” she was slightly older, motherly, and with his mixed up emotions, Tim almost teared up at her gentle tone, “your meds,” she handed him a little plastic cup with a couple of capsules and a tablet in, frowned at the cuffs.

“My friends’ idea of a joke.” Tim blushed a little. “I’m a little uncomfortable…” he trailed off, it seemed redundant to explain. He peered doubtfully at the contents of the plastic cup.

“Your surgeon proscribed something to relax you before tomorrow, so you just down those meds for me honey.”

He was used to following orders, so he downed the cup’s contents, took some sips of the water she handed him to wash them all down. He relaxed back into the pillows, doubting that the meds had really worked that quickly, but the fact of them had helped a lot. It wasn’t as though he had any reason to distrust Dr Jenner, he quite liked the guy. He was patient with Tim’s anxieties, spoke in terms that Tim could understand rather than bury the situation in a ton of medical jargon and even accepted Tim’s first excuse when the thought of going under a general anesthetic panicked the sniper.

Then he virtually called in reinforcements. Which was how Art and Tim’s colleagues became involved, and why Tim was handcuffed to a hospital bed.

He supposed, sleepily, that he should be grateful that his doctor and his boss, and all his friends cared that much.

The world receded as Tim lay back, he could feel his fear just draining away. He closed his eyes. A hand gently touched his, and from far away Tim felt the prick of a needle, “huh” he muttered, _ssssshhhhhh_ said a voice, _just something for tomorrow._

******JUSTIFIED******


End file.
